


Every Book Under the Sun

by Kiiratam



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Comfort, F/F, Weiss suffers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 19:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20588210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam
Summary: Blake gets some bad news.Takes place in Volume 2, between Chapters 1 and 2. (My BMBLB fic index)





	Every Book Under the Sun

"Hey Blake. How's the weekly crime check?"

  
Yang had just walked in the door, fresh from her workout. Still sweaty. And Blake would normally have been very interested, but she was still trying to process what she'd read. She closed her eyes and held out her scroll for Yang to take.

  
_It must be a mistake. I must have read it wrong. Or just made a stupid mistake. Can't even read right. Idiot._

  
"'The owner of Tukson's Book Trade was found dead in his shop on Wednesday. Police are calling it murder, possibly a robbery gone wrong.' That's awful!" Blake felt Yang sit down on the bed, next to her.

  
_It's my fault. It must be my fault. He helped me get out. Set me up with the paperwork I needed. Someone must have found out._ Blake pressed her hand to her eyes, trying to breathe evenly.

  
"Blake?"

  
_Yang. Yang is safe. Yang knows I'm a Faunus. Knows I was in the White Fang. He's dead because of me. Yang is safe._

  
She threw her arms around Yang, pressed her face into Yang's shoulder. Felt her tighten in surprise, then soften, and wrap her arms around Blake.

  
Tukson was dead because of her. What would she tell her mother? The two of them had been friends. Good friends. It didn't matter. Her mother already hated her. Blake tried to keep quiet, but her even breathing had turned into sobbing.

  
Yang was cradling her head, holding her tightly. Not saying anything, just making soothing noises.

  
A sudden absurdity struck Blake in her misery. Yang still didn't know. Didn't know Tukson had been White Fang, didn't know he knew Blake, probably hadn't even realized he was Faunus. For all Yang knew, Blake was crying her eyes out over the death of a bookseller she'd met once. It was enough to make her stop crying. She hugged Yang back, as tightly as she could. Asked, voice thick, "Can I tell you something?"

  
Stroking her hair, Yang said, "Go ahead."

  
"He wasn't just a book shop owner." She waited for a moment for Yang to respond. When she didn't, Blake went on. "He was White Fang. Had ties to the underworld. Forged documents, fenced goods, found people."

  
"Do you think someone found out? Killed him because he was a member of the White Fang?"

  
Blake shook her head. As much as she could, holding Yang. "I think it _was_ the White Fang. He was the one who got me Beacon entry papers."

  
"Oh." She felt Yang tense up. "Do you think they know you're here?"

  
"After the incident on the docks, they know I'm in Vale. Or was, a couple of months ago."

  
"But not Beacon specifically."

  
"No."

  
Yang pulled back a bit, looked into Blake's eyes. "Blake, we have to tell Professor Ozpin. He can get you a transfer to Haven, or Shade. Away from here."

  
Away from Yang. "No."

  
"But Blake-!"

  
"No!" Blake dropped her eyes, tried to pretend she hadn't just glared at Yang and shouted. "I... don't want to leave the team." Don't want to leave you. "Professor Ozpin already knows about everything. He knew my entry papers were fake. He let me in anyway."

  
"Okay." Yang released her grip around Blake. Put her arm on her own leg, hand open, ready for Blake to grab it.

  
_Do you want me to go? Do you think it would be safer? Are you just tired of having to manage my weepy self? You don't have to love me after seeing who I really am. He's dead and it's my fault. Blame me for this. Please._

  
_ Breathe in, hold it, breathe out._

  
Yang left her hand there, just waiting for Blake. "He really didn't lie about his tagline. He had everything."

  
Folding her hands in her lap, Blake said. "Every time I saw him, he gave me a book. Even when I was just a little kid."

  
"You knew him a long time?"

  
"Friend of my parents. He-"_ How do I explain this? He was my mom's boyfriend for a while, but my dad was okay with it? Just like Sienna was my dad's girlfriend? I don't even know if that's accurate. That's the impression of seven year old me. He was Uncle Tukson, but we were all Sister Ilia this and Aunt Sienna that and Brother-... It didn't mean anything. It's my fault. I don't even know my own head, how I can even guess at other people's?_ _Uncle Tukson is dead because he helped you._ "...Yeah. Years."

  
"Do you still have any of the books he gave you?"

  
Blake shook her head. "Apart from the FitzBattleaxe we bought? No. We couldn't carry non-essentials. I read them, and passed them on." She could see the sweat drying on Yang. She should just let her go shower. Get her to stop wasting her time, comforting a coward.

  
"Oh."

  
"Don't you need to go shower?"

  
Yang shrugged. "Yeah. Eventually. I don't have to do it right now. Just before dinner. I can wait, if you need me. Or I can go shower, if you don't want to have to smell me."

  
Blake wanted to tell her to go, but couldn't manage to say it. It wasn't like she had been rolling around in garbage. Just sweating. And her hand was still resting on her leg, open and ready.

  
_I don't deserve her. I can't keep holding her back. Can't expect her to just wait for me forever. Can't expect her to die for me, just like he did._

  
_ Breathe in, hold it, breathe out._

  
Blake concentrated, blocking out her miserable litany. Forced herself to reach out and take Yang's hand. Delicately, barely holding it. Yang squeezed back with more force, then matched Blake's grip. More touching hands than holding hands. Blake noticed that Yang had matched her breathing. Slow, deliberate. Forget the words, the thoughts, just the feeling of her lungs expanding and contracting. The light touch of Yang's calloused hand, feeling her weight on the mattress when she shifted.

  
It took - Blake didn't even know. Long enough for the sweat to dry on Yang's brow. Not long enough for her clothes to dry. But Blake could hear herself on the inside of her own head again. She turned to Yang, whispering in her ear, their cheeks brushing, "Thank you."

  
The door swung open. "Blake, have you seen my-" Weiss stopped, looking at the two of them. Shook herself. "You know what, this is _far_ from the worst thing I've walking in on you two doing. Blake, have you seen my hairbrush?"

  
Blake shrugged. "You had it this morning. Haven't seen it since then."

  
"Have you checked with Ruby?" Yang asked.

  
"I was _hoping_ it hadn't vanished into the black hole of things Ruby has borrowed." Weiss sighed. "I'll ask her when she gets back from Weapons Lab." She sat down at her desk, pulling out her history textbook and notes.

  
Yang snorted. "Well, Blake, I guess the orgy's off."

  
"I'll let everyone know." Blake pulled out her scroll, started typing for authenticity. She was pretty sure she could hear Weiss' blushes. Or, at least, how her movements became broader and more erratic as the blood rushed about.

  
"I guess I'll just go take that shower then." Yang stood up, grinning. "Want to come?"

  
"Oh, Yang, there's nothing I love more than watching you lather yourself up, and wash it all off. Because you're a dirty, dirty girl." Blake could see why Yang enjoyed flirting so much. Even if this was a few steps past that into blatant parody.

  
"It's true. I'm a dirty girl with a filthy mind, stained by all the things I do in back corridors and utility closets of Beacon. With anyone and everyone."

  
"Want me to tell the orgy chat to meet us in the showers?"

  
"It _does_ make cleaning up easier."

  
"Why are the two of you like this?" Weiss asked, face-down in her textbook.

  
Grabbing her towel and shower stuff, Yang said, "Because I can't makes these jokes around Ruby. And you suffer so artistically."

  
"It was this or keep stealing SDC trains." Blake pulled her little blue book of FitzBattleaxe's poetry out from underneath her pillow.

  
"See you in the showers, Blake." Yang winked at her, slipping out.

  
Blake shook her head, and flipped her book open. Huffing and muttering to herself, Weiss went back to her studying.

'I tell you  
someone will remember us  
in the future.'

Stroking the cover of her book, Blake tried to keep her mind stable. _I'm sorry, Uncle Tukson. I'll remember you. I'll avenge you. The White Fang is my responsibility. I can't let it keep hurting people. I need to act._

**Author's Note:**

> FitzBattleaxe, is, as always, Sappho of Lesbos. The (fragment of) poetry was translated by [Julia Dubnoff.](https://www.uh.edu/~cldue/texts/sappho.html)


End file.
